Black Eyes and Twisted Wings
by ThoseWhoDon'tBelong
Summary: Castiel has saved Dean from hell only to find he has been damaged beyond repair. The angel is forced to do anything he can to save those from the monster he saved. Reviews would be beautiful!
1. Prologue

**Epilogue**

It was a harder journey than he expected. Most of his energy had drained, but he knew the trip was only half over. Still though, he travelled deeper and deeper into the endless pit of tortured souls. It was so dark. All that could be heard was the gnashing of teeth and the sound of smoldering cinders. The occasion scream rang out, but most victims were beyond a point of shrieks. The pain they felt was a new sort of pain. One they never have held before… And it never ended.

Castiel couldn't bring himself to pity these souls though. It was their own fault they were trapped here. This thought made it easier on the angel when he heard their pleads. They begged to be saved when they saw him swoop past. Their pleads were in vain though. He was on a mission and would not waste his time on the damned.

Castiel was deep in the pit when he caught the first glimpse of his goal. He was stand on a rocky platform, a thin blade clenched it hand. In front of his, a young man hung on a post, strung up by hooks that dug through his shoulder and hip. He too, was begging. Sobbing. Pleading for mercy. Although his body was worn and beaten, the true torture had not yet begun.

Dean advanced toward his thin, pale victim, raising his single razor. The first cut was made on his stomach, dragging it across so blood spurted from the incision and the man howl. That wouldn't do. The torturer moved back up to the man's throat and with a perfectly steady hand, raked the blade across his throat. No more screams, just croaks and gags. That job done, Dean moved back to the stomach, running the blade across the soft, vulnerable skin.

The warrior dove down rapidly. This is him. The righteous man – the broken man – who he had to save. The tortures he brought onto these damned souls were unthinkable.

Castiel advanced on the torturer with beating wings. Dean whipped around at the sound, coal-black eyes growing incredibly wide in shock. He looked as though he were going to dive out of the way, but the angel was much quicker than he was. His true hand connected with Dean's shoulder.

Dean uttered a shriek of pain as the angel's hand burnt into his arm. He writhed wildly, trying to free himself unsuccessfully. Castiel lifted the soul from his platform. He was finding it difficult to fly straight with the man's screams and violent jerks.

The angel was exhausted when finally reaching the surface, only managing to glance down at the being in his grasp. Those coal eyes stared back up at them with such hatred. This was truly the broken man. Now, Castiel could feel nothing but sympathy towards him.

Castiel brought the writhing man back to his grave, carefully putting him back together, healing all the harm that had happened to him in hell. He gently place his hand on Dean's head, putting him to rest and laying him back in his coffin so he could rest for a few hours before he woke.

The angel stared down at Dean, breathing deeply. He would return to his human soon so he could continue with his work, but for now, the human would take his well-deserved rest.


	2. Chapter 1

"Hello, Dean."

Dean jumped higher than he should over when hearing the familiar, gravelly voice behind him. He couldn't help but feel a tingle of annoyance. How many times had he told the angel not to do that? "We still need to work on getting you a bell, huh?" This only got him a crease of the brow and a head tilt. "Never mind. What is it?"

Castiel didn't answer his question; merely step farther into the hotel room, scanning it. His eyes fell on the TV screen. On it, a woman was screaming, tripping over her own feet as she attempted to flee from the antagonist of the movie – a man with a large knife. The angel thought these movies were ridiculous, but Dean seemed to be entertained by them. "Have you made any progress in locating the demon?"

Dean sighed deeply as he rubbed his eyes. "No, Cass. We haven't." This demon had been a particularly large annoyance. He had been on this hunt for a week now and not so much as a glimpse of the demon. It was active though, maliciously slaughtering three people already in the town. "Since when have you given a damn about the hunts we go on?"

"I was merely curious." Castiel replied defensively, ripping his eyes from the screen after the first splatter of blood and returning them to the hunter. "Where is Sam?"

"Out." Dean barked, giving no farther detail. He plopped down on the bed. He tucked himself into the bed as he flicked off the lamp then the TV. "I'm going to sleep." He mumbled as he put his head on the pillow, closing his eyes.

The hunter laid there for a moment, but the heavy eyes of the angel never felt him and there was no sound of fluttering wings for him flying off. "Cass, that's your cue to leave." Dean growled into the pillow. No response. The hunter sighed deeply. God dammit, this guy could be irritating.

Dean sat up to look at the angel would was staring back at him with a furrowed brow. "Castiel, get out."

"Dean, I would be much more comfortable here." Castiel replied, unmoving.

A new spike of anger hit. Why the hell did the angel want to stay? He didn't need sleep like the human did. Besides, it would be impossible to get any sleep with those eyes staring at him all night. However, he knew Castiel well enough by now. He knew once Castiel was set on something, he wasn't going to give up. "Fine." Dean growled. "But stop staring at him." The puzzled expression flashed across Castiel face. "Lay down, Cass."

Still looking bewildered, Castiel lowered himself down on the bed next to Dean. "No, Cass." The hunter almost groaned, looking sufficiently irritated. "Other bed." And Castiel moved to the twin bed to the right of Dean's. Sam would have to shoo him away when he got back. He just need Castel out of his hair now. "Good. Now go to sleep." He rolled to his side, putting his back to Castiel.

"Angels don't sleep, Dean." Castiel reminded, still staring at the back of Dean's head.

"Well, pretend!" Dean snapped short-temperedly, squeezing his eyes shut as he buried himself in the blankets. "Now, shut up, will ya? I'm exhausted." And Castiel obeyed, falling silent, although both eyes did remain locked on the sleeping man.

It was nearly eleven o'clock before there was any sound. During that time, Castiel was laying stiffly on the bed, staring at the back of the hunter's neck. Luckily though, Dean didn't seem to notice that eyes gaping at him as he slept. He would have been pissed.

"Cass." The voice uttered as the man in the twin bed began to stir.

Castiel couldn't deny his surprise to hear him awake. He knew the hunter always slept through the night, unless he had his hell-plagued nightmares in which case he would yelp or thrash himself awake. This was without warning. "Yes, Dean?" The angel asked with a creased brow. "Is something wrong?"

Dean pulled himself up into a sitting position, turning to face the angel. "The demon… It's close. C'mon. Get up, we can meet it."

Castiel's brow furrowed and he was to his feet just as quickly as Dean, stepping in front of him. "Dean, there is no tracking the demon. You said so. It's all random." The angel stated, shaking his head as he frowned. "It is very late. Go back to sleep."

"Cass, you can come with me or you can stay." Dean growled, as he changed into a fresh pair of jeans, throwing his sweatpants to the side of the bed. "I gotta go gank that black-eyed monster."

The answer was obvious though, wasn't it? Castiel followed Dean out the door, into the car, where he sat stiffly, staring out the windows. His eyes were flick to the hunter at times and he saw Dean's knuckles were white and he was breathing a bit too heavily. It wasn't apparent, but that frightened Castiel. He hadn't seen Dean this riled up in a long time. So, the angel's eyes rest on him, ready to forcibly stop the car of needed.

"Would you stop staring at me?" Dean snapped, making Castiel jump slightly, ripping his out of his thoughts. "You're making me nervous." Exhaling quietly through his nostrils, the angel turned to stare out the window. It felt like at least an hour had gone by before Dean finally rolled the Impala into a dirty lot in front of an old, broken barn. "Cass," The hunter sighed, staring through the windshield at it. "I know that thing it is there. All the dead bodies have been found in barns, all of them miles around this town and they all lead from left to right… I need your help." That was when his eyes ripped from the barn to the angel sitting next to him.

"Of course, Dean." He replied, brow creasing, almost offended that Dean would think that he would be so selfish as to not help. So, together, the two got out of the car and walked up to them together.

The barn was empty and dark, other than the dim moonlight peeking through the cracks in the roof. The floor was covered in dirt and dust. Dean lit a match. That offered a bit more light, but very little, hardly enough to see in front of.

"Dean, are you sure he was here?" Castiel asked, stepping a bit deeper into the barn, halting in the center. He scanned the area. Nothing. It was an empty barn. "There is no one here. Perhaps it heard us and ran… We should check the surrounding area."

"No, Cass." Dean replied, stepping forward. He dropped the match before Castiel and instantly a ring of fire burst around him, caging him in the circle. His bright blue eyes grew incredibly wide in completely shock. He looked up at the hunter who was actually _smiling._ Then, Castiel stomach dropped. Dean blinked, but when he opened them back up, his eyes were black as pitch. "No… The demon is right here."


	3. Chapter 2

**Warning:** Somewhat graphic torture.

Castiel stared, blatantly shocked. This wasn't Dean, he could see it, but it wasn't a separate demon. This was the demon that Dean turned into when he was in hell. The angel had thought he had destroyed this monster completely. Now it had become apparent to him he just suppressed the demon. It never truly left though.

"You remember me, Cass, don't you?" Dean went on, taking slow steps around the ring of holy fire. "The one you gripped tight and rose from perdition, right?"

"I did not raise you." Castiel spit through clenched teeth as he scowl at the creature rounding him. His jaw was clenched, ready to defend himself if at all possible, but he was pasty white. He was scared. "I raised Dean."

"I am Dean." He stated simply, before stopping in front of him. "Just a side you didn't clean up as well as you thought you did." At that, Dean began to hiss out a chant. It was Enochian. He uttered it once and Castiel was beginning to feel the strength drain from him. By the third time he spoke it, Castiel was on his knees, sucking it a deep gasp of breath. It was like a punch in the stomach and he couldn't recover from it.

Dean hopped over the fire and into the caged area. His fingers curled around Castiel's dark hair and yanked it up, forcing him to look up. "Did you ever consider the fact that I was happy?" The first blow came down and met Castiel's jaw. It _hurt. _Castiel was an angel, getting punched in the face wasn't supposed to hurt. Whatever Dean chanted was powerful.

"You're not Dean." The angel mumbled as the fist met his cheek again. The demon then grabbed his jaw, forcing their eyes to meet. Blue eyes stared up at black, as both of them decided their next move. Dean dropped Castiel's face and stepped back over the ring of fire. During his short absences, the angel fell farther, using his hands to prop him up. His whole body ached with weariness. This spell was very powerful, but that didn't mean it could last forever, right?

Dean returned only a minute later, dragging a squeaky, metal cart behind him. The metal cart was decorated with knives, blades, and hooks of all different sizes. How long was this being planned? It would take weeks to find this assortment of weapons. This demon was impressive, to say the least. It was running the Winchester brothers on a wild goose chase when they were actually tracking a creature inside Dean. Very clever.

"I never wanted to leave hell, Castiel." Dean mused, lifting up a scalpel. Although it's small size, it terrified the angel just the same. He could be hurt by it now. The demon twisted it in his fingers, letting the dim light of the flame reflect of the metal. "I belong there… But if I try to get back, you'll just pull me back up." The black eyes moved from the blade to Castiel. "That just isn't fair, is it?"

Dean stepped over the flames, leaning down next to him. He used his single, free hand to pluck the trench coat off the slumped figure and tossing it outside the flame. He did the same thing with the white button-up shirt. "You know what the best thing about this is?" Dean asked, moving to the back of Castiel. "No matter how much I torture you, you won't die. Hundreds of the victims I tortured begged for death, but they couldn't." His pale lips twitched up in a grin. "I guess you'll know what that feels like, huh?"

Castiel shuddered and attempted to pull away, but his body suddenly felt like a weighed a hundred more pounds and he was rendered motionless, propped up on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. Dean placed one hand on the angel's bare back, lifting the scalpel. It took a moment before he decided where the tip of the blade would land. He decided on the center of the left rib cage.

Dean moved slowly, steadily dragging the tip of the small knife down the soft pale skin, blood spilling out of the fresh incision. Castiel couldn't imagine worse pain. The blade was cutting deep, raking across his skin again and again, but he couldn't move. He wailed, heavy breath quickly turning into racked gasps.

The demon found pleasure with causing the trapped angel so much pain. The hand that was resting on his bare back forced him down so he was lying helplessly on his stomach, sucking in air desperately, choking back sobs. Dean lifted himself returning to the cart of the knives, returning the scalpel to its spot and picking up a curved knife instead. He examined it a moment as Castiel stared, eyes huge.

Dean returned moments later, kneeling over his again. He ran the knife down his back, nice and slow. There was just enough force on the blade to cut the skin, but not yet enough to cause to him scream. It took the angel a moment to realize the noise that he was uttering. It was a whimper. He was whimpering.

The whimpers didn't last though. Soon, the curved knife was plunged into the small of his back, sinking until only the handle jutted out. Castiel screamed his writhes nothing but twitches. His agony didn't need to be expressed by thrashes though, his screams said enough. Dean leaned forward, placing one hand on Castiel's head as his other hand grabbed the handle of the blade and twisted. Blood gushed, spilling to the dirty ground below as the angel cried out. Tears swelled in his eyes, but he did not weep. He would not give this demon the pleasure of seeing him cry.

Dean paused once he made his first round with the knife. He waited patiently for Castiel's wails to finally die out. His throat was raw and it burned. That was nothing compared to the rest of his body. He now felt pity for those in hell, having to suffer this every day for eternity. No one deserved this form of suffering.

The blade was removed in a single, sharp jerk upward and – due to the hooked blade – it lengthened the already twisted gash into something worse. Castiel's vision was growing blurry from the pain that was shooting mercilessly through his back and travelling to the rest of his body.

"Castiel…" The angel heard from a few feet of head in a mocking voice. "Stay with me, Cass. Don't black out on me yet." Dean was returning. Castiel was attempting desperately to wriggle away, kick him, do anything, but his body wouldn't let him. He was trapped there.

The angel couldn't tell what kind of blade he was holding this time, but by the feeling of it when it entered his back shoulder, it was thick. Maybe a cleaver. Castiel was howling again. He could feel the thick, warm blood trickling down his shoulder, pooling on his back, forming puddled below him.

That's when the pain grew to be too much. Blackness creped from the corner of his eyes and despite that face Dean was still cutting, his body was going numb. The darkness took over as Castiel finally slipped off.

_Reviews are greatly appreciated! _


	4. Chapter 3

Dean woke in the hotel bed with a jump, covered with a sheen of sweet. He kicked off the sheets covering him, wiping the sweat from his forehead, inhaling and exhaling deeply. The sun peaked through the curtains of the window at the far side of the room.

"Sam?" The hunter called, his voice much raspier than expected. _Breath, Winchester. In and out. _He cleared his throat. "Sammy?" The twin bed was empty though, nothing but ruffled covers. He was still gone. "Cass…?"

"I'm here, Dean." The gravelly voice murmured, making Dean jump. He honestly didn't think the angel would be there. He was undeniably relieved though. There was something about his voice, though. It was quiet, hopeless, like he was lost.

"Hey, man." Dean breathed, leaning up in the bed, managing to pull himself to his feet. His legs ached, but his head was far worse. It was like he had a bad hangover, but he wasn't drinking last night. The hunter rubbed his head as he approached the angel who was leaning his own head against the wall, staring blankly at the bathroom door. "God, I had a rough night." He received no response. Castiel refused to even glance at him. "One hell of a nightmare… Another one of those hell ones." Again, Dean paused, but he still got nothing from the angel. Usually Castiel would give him some kind of attention. "Except this one had you."

Finally, Dean received something. For a mere moment, Castiel face contorted before it snapped back to his regular, blank repression. "Cass," Dean uttered, his voice not near as steady as it was a moment ago. "What the hell is going on? Was that – did that really happen Cass?"

Castiel's lips pinched as his jaw clenched. His eyes ripped away from the bathroom door ahead of him and locked on Dean's green ones. "Dean," The angel's voice had a new tone to it – anger. It was powerful enough to send a shiver down the hunter's spine. "It was just a dream, like all the other ones you've had of hell. Vivid, realistic, but false."

Dean's determined expression faltered and he nodded. "Alright." He finally breathed deeply, closing his eyes. "Alright." Castiel had never lied to him before; he had no reason to lie to him now. It took a moment, but his thoughts were jarred back to the present. "Where's Sam? Did he ever come back last night?"

"I don't know." Castiel replied, stepping past Dean looking at the twin bed, his expression returning to its default – clear and calm.

"You don't know?" Dean asked, frowning. "Did he or didn't he? You were here all night, Cass, wouldn't you know if he showed up or not?"

Castiel turned back to the hunter, a hint of irritation showing on his face. "No, Dean. I was _not _here all night. I was ordered to protect you, but that does not mean I am a guardian angel. I have separate things to attend to." The angel stopped, examining his face. He saw the hurt on it, although it was faint. Castiel could read him like a book. "I'm sorry, Dean, but I do not know where your brother is." He didn't want to sound so angry; he was stressed from the night before though. Extremely stressed.

"Forget it." Dean growled, waving away the apology. "We have bigger shit to worry about." He paused a moment. "Sam left to go pick up dinner around seven… God dammit, I thought he was just hanging out at the bar or something." He rubbed his forehead wearily as the angel watched him intently from behind.

"Maybe he got a lead on your hunter." Castiel offered lowly, tilting his head to the side. He was lying through his teeth. He had a very good idea of what really happen to Sam, but how would he be able to tell Dean? He couldn't. Dean would not find out about his demon.

"He would have called." Dean retorted, shaking his head. He grabbed his change of clothes and went into the bathroom. His nightshirt with sticking against him, probably do to the amount of sweat. Those "nightmares" must have really gotten to him. The hunter washed off in the shower, changed his clothes and was back in front of the waiting angel within five minutes. "Let's go."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "Go?"

"We gotta find Sam, Cass." Dean replied, plucking the car keys off of dresser and his light backpack of clothes. "Unless you feel like flying off again." Sure enough, when Dean turned around to look at Castiel, he was already gone. The hunter sighed deeply. "Freakin' angel…"At that, Dean left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Dean searched the town. Every bar, every restaurant, but there has been no sign of it. He even asked the waiters and owners if he had seen him, but his struggles were in vain. There was no sign of Sam anywhere. It was late afternoon when he finally finished the town. There was no point in staying. The hunter got back into the impala just as the sun began to dip. Sam must have gone elsewhere.

"Where are you going?"

Dean leaped in surprise, car swerving, eyes shooting up to the mirror to see Castiel sitting in the backseat. "Dammit, Cass!" He snarled, eyes flashing back to the road as he steadied the Impala. "Don't do that!"

"My apologies." Castiel uttered lowly.

Dean glanced back to the mirror. "You don't have to sit in the back." He stated, inwardly rolling his eyes. "You can sit up here." Given the invitation, Castiel snapped into the passenger seat next to the hunter, eyes locked on him.

"Where are you going, Dean?" The angel asked again, his voice firm this time.

"I'm getting the hell out of here." Dean replied, clenching the wheel with a little more intensity. "Sammy isn't here and I'm going to find him." Castiel didn't reply, but his gaze did travel away from the human and back out the window. There was ten minutes of comfortable silence between the two before Dean finally cleared his throat. "Cass, I need to talk to you, but you have to promise me you won't be flying off, okay?"

Castiel met Dean's eye and nodded. "Of course, Dean." He replied his voice significantly more gentle now. "What is it?"

"You know the dream I was telling you about?" Dean went on, eyes locked on the street in front of him. The angel's stomach churned. He didn't want to talk to Dean about this. He hated to lie to him. All his wounds had healed when the spell ended, but by that time, Dean was gone and the holy fire had fallen into nothing. He planned to just push this into a closet of things he never spoke of. Never remembered. He couldn't do that if Dean kept forcing him to talk about it. "You were in it… You've never been in any of my dreams about hell before." He paused, licking his lips. It was an obvious struggle for him. "Cass, man, you were…" He stopped though.

"Dean." Castiel stepped in, seeing his pain. The angel reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder gingerly. "I'm here. You needn't worry about this. I was a nightmare."

Dean's breathing steadied as Castiel dropped his hands. "Cass," He began, reaching to take the angel's hand, giving it a small squeeze. "Thanks." The hunter offered a smile, keeping their hands interlocked for a few more minutes before carefully bringing his back to the wheel.

As promised, Castiel didn't go anywhere.


	5. Chapter 4

"I don't know what to do." Castiel called to the sky. He sat on the bench of a dew covered park. It was the dead of night and even doubled check to make sure it was empty. "Father, I am conflicted." His eyes fell to the ground as he leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees, folding his hands. "I can see the demon, but I cannot stop it… And I cannot abandon Dean Winchester." He lifted his head back to the clouded sky above. "I need your help, Father! Please, help me."

"Ask and you share receive." A deep voice replied next to him, a touch of humour to it. Uriel. The larger angel turned to him, eyebrows rose. "What is it, Castiel?"

Castiel only glanced at his colleague, before returning his gaze to the ground. "I was not warned that Dean's soul was not completely healed." His voice was almost a whisper. It was rare he would express so much emotion. Uriel couldn't help but offer his full attention.

"If you knew, it would have been much harder to convince you to look after him." Uriel retorted simply. Who was he kidding though? Castiel didn't need any convincing. Uriel merely leaned back against the bench. "It's been bad?" Castiel's silence was his answer. "So, are you going to request to be assigned a different job?"

"No." Castiel replied immediately. He was by no means going to leave Dean. He cared for this human. He raised his soul from hell. Leaving him was completely out of the question. "I was only going to ask if there is some way to control it…"

"Well, Castiel, that's actually way I've come tonight." Uriel replied, leaning forward to match Castiel's position. "Heaven has taken note of Dean's demon side." Suddenly the trench coated angel's full attention was lock on Uriel. "They appreciate that you have not spoken to Dean about this. They've decided you are not to say a word about it." Uriel paused. "And you will keep him from harming anyone else… You also must not harm him."

Castiel was stunned into silence for a moment. "You are suggesting that I willingly allow him to torture me?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm ordering it." Uriel said, he noticed the look of despair on Castiel face. "If you want to stay with Dean Winchester, those are the terms, Castiel. Do you or do you not agree?"

"I agree."

Castiel had been staying with Dean nearly every minute, mostly because Dean couldn't bear to be alone, although he would never admit the fact. It had been three days without the slightest sign of the younger Winchester and Dean was growing more stressed at the minute. He was still having nightmares of hell, but the demon had halted, not killing outside people or torturing the angel any longer. At the time, at least.

Castiel appeared back in the dark room. He glanced down at the single bed which the hunter occupied. He was writhing between the sheets. Another nightmare. Frowning, the angel sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his forehead. Dean woke with a jerk.

"Wh- Cass?" Dean breathed, staring up at him with wide eyes. He leaned his head back down when realizing it was just a dream as Castiel removed his hand. "Thanks."

"It was only another dream." Castiel assured with a small nod. "Go back to sleep." As the angel pulled himself to his feet, a hand shot out from under the covers and jerked him back down.

"Stay here. I may need you again."

Castiel looked down at the hunter, licking his lips before nodding. "I will stay. Now sleep." Dean was a bit amused by the angel's assertiveness, but did nothing but rolled to his side and chuckle quietly. Castiel waited there patiently, watching him until his breath got steady. Once done, he stood and stepped away from the bed.

Shame was building up in him, making his stomach twist and eyes burn. _This is the will of God. _He would remind himself, but it would bring no peace. He completely and utterly failed in healing the righteous man. Dean Winchester was completely broken and he didn't even know it. Castiel sat down in the far chair, placing his elbow on his knee and his hand on his forehead, massaging it. He didn't even notice Dean who was sitting up in his bed. "Castiel."

Castiel stood back to his feet, his strong face returning. He approached the hunter. "Dean, I told you to go to sleep. It is late." Dean moved so quickly, the angel couldn't see him. One moment he was sitting in bed, the next and he was plunging an angelic blade into Castiel shoulder. He tried to scream out, but Dean's hand was over his mouth, so it only came out as a muffled yell. No one would hear it.

"Shh, easy there, Cass. Don't wake the neighbors." The voice was mocking him, lips curling into a smile as those black eyes bore into his blue eyes. Castiel did not struggle to free himself though though. He didn't struggle when the blade was twisted or when it was jerked out, but he definitely did writhe and cry out. Dean had his hand against Castiel's jaw, clamping his mouth shut. He placed the tip of the blade over the angel's stomach, just resting there, not hard enough to break skin. "Cass… You aren't givin' up on me, are ya?" Small, jerking nods were his response. The eyebrows lifted over black eyes, surprised. "Really?" By the tone of his voice, he liked this. Dean leaned down and began to whisper an unfamiliar spell into the angel's ear.

Seconds later, he was out.


	6. Chapter 5

Castiel woke in a damp, dusty room, groggy and confused. His memory rushed back to him instantly. His eyes snapped open. He was confined with holy fire, the cage large and wide. Dean sat outside it, his black eyes shining against the light of the flame. Castiel looked back at himself. He saw he was without his shirt or trench coat again. He was leaning against a thin medal pillar in the center of the fire. It soon became apparent to him that he was in a cellar of some kind.

"Morning, sunshine." Dean chuckled when seeing the angel stir. Castiel promptly ignored him. He could move, so whatever spell he had used, it wasn't the same one. "And here I thought you were going to sleep all day." He stepped over the holy fire. Two large meat hooks were in hand which had chains attached to the end. Dean leaned down next to him, their faces only inches apart. "You're not going to fight with me, are you?"

"I will not harm Dean Winchester." Castiel whispered. He peeked down at the meat hooks. They had sigils carved on all edge of it. The angel's stomach twisted, making his feel as though he was going to lose his stomach.

Dean ran a hand through Castiel hair, smiling. He didn't reply to the angel's word, just started on his work.

"Stand up." Dean hissed at him and, surprisingly, Castiel did what he was told, watching Dean's every movement closely, hands clenched to fists. The demon lifted the first hook, pressing it against the angel's side as he sucked in a gasp of breath. He couldn't stifle a scream as the hook pressed through the soft skin and through the other side. Dean wrapped the chain coming from the end of the hook around the pole in which Castiel was leaning against. His legs were beginning to fail him due to the pain, but Dean rushed the other hook through the angel's shoulder, tying that chain to the pole as well. Castiel was tethered securely to the pole, unable to lower himself to the ground without the risk of tearing the skin any farther.

Castiel breathes were sharp and short, choking on sob, limbs trembling wildly. He couldn't scream anymore. The pain was to sharp. Dean waited, watching the scarlet, drip down his body and stain the pants he was dressed in and pool below him.

Dean stepped out of the circle, shuffling through his table of knives displaced neatly across it. The pain was already making Castiel's vision fuzzy, but he couldn't leave Dean – the real Dean – trapped in there. So, he mustered up all the power he had left and suck in a deep breath of air. "Dean."

The surprised on the demon's face could not be hidden. He turned staring at him until he understood he couldn't go on with what he was staying. Dean approached him, blade in one hand. "What is it, Castiel?" He snickered. They were nearly nose to nose again. "What do you want to say to me?"

There was no immediately response, but Castiel slowly reached a trembling hand forward, taking Dean's and giving it a small squeeze as Dean had done before to him. The demon reacted immediately. The knife sunk in Castiel stomach.

The demon hadn't been angry at Castiel before. The torturing formally had been out of malice, now though, it was pure rage. He was cutting deep, raking the knife down his stomach and legs. Soon, the hooks had to support Castiel completely, tearing skin as it did so. His body was just too weak. Castiel just kept screaming Dean's name though, crying for him to realize what was happening. He never did though.

Time had no meaning down in the cellar. It could have been minutes or hours. It was impossible to tell. But after a period of time, Dean's tortures began to falter. He moved slower, teeth clenched. He even began to stumble. Then, he fled the room. That's when Castiel finally let the blackness take over and he fell unconscious.

The angel woke in a daze, but he was determined. The holy fire had burnt itself out so all that was restraining him was the two meat hooks. It was like ripping off a band aid. All it took was one swift motion and they were out, leaving nothing but sickly gashes. It started the bleeding again, but he was free and now that they were out, he would heal quickly.

Castiel stepped farther into the cellar, searching every corner of it. The knives were gone and any trace of Dean was gone. His clothes were still there though, thrown in the corner carelessly. He took the chance to wipe the remaining blood off with his hands before throwing on his shirt and trench coat. Luckily, most of the wounds had already healed.

Once clothed again, Castiel pulled his cellphone, which was still intact, and type in Dean's cellphone number, which he had been forced to memorized. "Dean?"

"Cass," Dean was _pissed. _"Where the fuck have you been? Where are you?"

"Dean, please." Castiel urged, through bared teeth. "Tell me your location, I will come."

Immediately, Dean said the address and room number of the hotel he was staying in. Castiel was there, accompanied by the familiar flutter of wings. Dean was there, pacing and restless, and he came at the angel immediately, throwing a fist that met Castiel's cheek. It didn't harm Castiel though, now that spell wore off.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean snarled through clenched teeth as he held his, now aching, fist. "Do you have any idea how many times I called you? God, how was I supposed to know you weren't dead? You know what you–"

"Dean," Castiel finally interrupted, silencing the hunter. "I'm sorry." Dean must have heard the sincerity in the angel's voice, because he lurched forward, pulling him into a tight hug.

"You listen to me." Dean hissed, his arms holding Castiel tightly against him. "Never leave again, got that? Stay right here with me."

Castiel's head was resting on Dean's shoulder, face pressed in the nape of his neck. Both of his arms were rounded around Dean's torso. "I promise, Dean. I will never leave you." The rest of what happened was a complete blur to the already groggy angel. He remembered lips being pressed against his own. He remembered his clothes being stripped from him and his body being pressed against the bed.

What happened after was pure bliss.


End file.
